


Taste of Victory

by pendots



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Day Seven, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Promises, Victuuri Week 2017, katsudon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:50:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9703028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendots/pseuds/pendots
Summary: “I did promise to eat katsudon with you, Yuuri."(In which Victor finally fulfills his first promise and Yuuri learns the definition of victory.)(Victuuri Week 2017 Day 7: Endings. Prompt: Promises.)





	

A person’s definition of “victory” tends to depend quite heavily on many factors.

Yuuri Katsuki, winner of the silver medal at the Barcelona Grand Prix Final, knew this firsthand.

For some people, a victory would be nothing less than a first-place gold. If they weren’t winning, what was the point? Yuuri couldn’t decide if this was the mindset Yurio had gone into the GPF with, but nevertheless, Yurio had achieved the goal he had set from the very beginning. Even so, Yuuri was unconvinced that Yurio was fully pleased with his victory.

So that would lead to the _next_ definition of victory: achieving a perfect win. Yurio’s minor mess-up in the free skate hardly docked his points at all, but it certainly prevented a world record and a flawless victory. Perhaps Yurio wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than the best? _That would explain why he’d wanted Victor as his coach,_ Yuuri thought dreamily.

“Yuuri?” There was the man himself. Victor plopped down on the couch next to Yuuri, looking worn out. It was, after all, only their second day in St. Petersburg; they had shifted around a few pieces of furniture and gone to the rink for a minor practice that morning, so it made sense that Victor seemed exhausted after the past few whirlwind days.

“Victor,” Yuuri answered, holding out his hand in greeting. Victor took it, lacing their fingers together with a pleasant smile.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments. Yuuri’s mind started wandering once more, his fingers tapping against Victor’s hand absently.

Many would consider Yuuri’s performance a victory thanks to the amazing comeback from the previous year. That wasn’t even considering the record he had achieved, that unbelievable record that Yuuri still had to remind himself he had attained. That spark in Victor’s eyes, that swirling mix of pride and competition, would stay fresh in Yuuri’s mind for years.

But still, Yuuri couldn’t say he was satisfied. He knew while he had watched Yurio skate his free program that he couldn’t quit then. Yuuri wasn’t ready to leave the ice, wasn’t ready to stop skating. Not to mention the draw of Victor being there, too.

Yuuri frowned. _Victor…_ Victor had been promising Yuuri his help from the beginning, promising Yuuri a gold medal. But the actual winning wasn’t down to Victor…

No, the lack of gold was _Yuuri’s_ fault. He knew that, even if Victor had later promised he was only joking with Yuuri about the “only kissing gold” comment. Victor had believed in Yuuri’s ability to win gold, and now where were they? Sure, they were together in St. Petersburg and they were both going back into skating, a fact for which Yuuri was immeasurably grateful, but Yuuri…

Yuuri hadn’t actually _achieved_ victory, had he? Maybe in other people’s eyes, maybe in Victor’s, but not in Yuuri’s.

“Yuuri?” Victor repeated, tapping his own fingers against Yuuri’s hand. “Are you alright? You seem like you’re lost in thought.”

“Oh!” Yuuri blushed. “I’m sorry, I was just… thinking about a lot of stuff. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to space out.”

Victor chuckled good-naturedly, giving Yuuri’s hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I was just going to ask you if we could order some food tonight.”

_It makes sense that he wouldn’t want to go out to eat, tired as we both are,_ Yuuri rationalized. “Sure,” he agreed. “You can go ahead and pick the place, you know the food here much better than I do.”

Victor nodded and stood. He took a step away from the couch, seemed to consider something, then turned back around. A smile on his face, Victor leaned back towards Yuuri and gave him a gentle kiss. “Be right back!” he promised brightly. He shuffled off before Yuuri could respond.

A quiet smile remained on Yuuri’s lips as he watched Victor head back to their room. He leaned back on the couch, his head hanging slightly over the edge. _What is victory to me? And why can’t I stop thinking about it?_

The ceiling he stared at provided him no answers.

-

By the time Victor had come back as promised, Yuuri knew at least one of the answers to his introspective questions.

He couldn’t stop thinking about his lack of victory because deep down he still felt like he had failed Victor.

Yuuri knew Victor was proud, was happy; he had seen Victor’s face after he had pulled off his quad flip with a beautiful flourish, had hugged him warmly as soon as he’d left the ice. But still, Yuuri had been skating straight towards a gold medal with Victor’s complete faith behind him, and Yuuri had come away with silver.

How was Victor okay with that…?

“ _Yuu-ri_ ,” Victor whined. “Why do you keep frowning? Is something bothering you?”

Yuuri startled, a bit embarrassed at being caught so deep in thought again. “Ah, sorry, I was just thinking again! I didn’t know I was making faces. I’ll try to stop.”

Now it was Victor who was frowning. “So something _is_ bothering you,” he said.

Yuuri waved his hands erratically. “No, no, nothing is wrong! I promise, I’m just thinking about skating and trying to, uh, analyze. To improve,” he finished lamely. It was a weak excuse, even for him.

Victor considered him for a moment before sighing. “Alright,” he said plainly. He reached for Yuuri’s hand again and seemed placated.

_I don’t know how he fell for that,_ Yuuri thought, _but I’m glad. I wouldn’t want to worry him. He’s already done so much for me._

He grimaced, but quickly schooled his expression. The thought still hung there, ever-present in his anxious mind: _Which is why I should’ve done more for him._

Yuuri was startled from his reverie once again. This time it wasn’t Victor who broke him from his thoughts, but their doorbell. _Who would be coming this late-?_

“Oh, that must be the delivery!” Victor said. “I’m surprised they’re so prompt. Usually they make me wait hours!”

“Like Aeroflot all over again?” Yuuri joked.

Victor giggled. “I’m surprised you remember me saying that!” he called, walking towards the door.

“It’s not just that,” Yuuri shot back. “I had to fly here, too, you know.”

Victor’s response was his hearty laughter, and then some quick words in Russian. The deliveryman must have been quieter, Yuuri assumed; he knew exactly what Victor’s Russian sounded like.

Yuuri busied himself with setting the table, pointedly shoving any remaining anxious thoughts from his mind. He could mope later. Victor deserved Yuuri’s full attention, especially after taking care of dinner of his own accord.

The door closed softly and Yuuri heard Victor’s footsteps approaching. He opened his mouth to finally ask what Victor had ordered, but it snapped closed immediately when a familiar smell wafted towards him.

That smell… A smell which had first given Yuuri’s eros meaning… A smell he associated with a jubilant _vkusno!_ and with home…

Yuuri turned around to face his fiancé, his mind whirling.

Victor had the tiniest of grins on his face, showing he was pleased by Yuuri’s reaction but also betraying a certain tenderness underneath. “I ordered katsudon,” he announced unnecessarily.

Yuuri’s mouth opened and closed uselessly. It felt like Victor had read all of Yuuri’s earlier thoughts and acted accordingly. _How did he know?_ he thought desperately. He coughed, unsure why he felt emotion roiling in his stomach, and forced words out. “Why katsudon?” he squeaked.

The bag was gently set on the table before Victor replied. “I _did_ promise to eat katsudon with you, Yuuri. That was the very first promise I ever made you. The first of many, actually.” An eyebrow rose, as if daring Yuuri to remember, which _of course_ Yuuri remembered.

Still…

Yuuri’s earlier anxieties came flooding back and he couldn’t stop himself from speaking. “That was only if I won, though,” he pointed out softly, looking away.

But out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri saw Victor smile. Then he felt Victor’s hand against his face, slowly bringing his gaze back up. The ring on Victor’s hand felt cool against Yuuri’s skin.

Victor tilted his head slightly. “It wasn’t a gold medal at the Grand Prix Final, no…” Victor paused, gesturing at the walls around him with his left hand. “But you’re here. With me. And that feels a lot like a victory to me. Don’t you think so, Yuuri?”

And there it was. Victor’s explanation. He truly _was_ okay with Yuuri’s silver. Maybe even _more_ than okay with it. Yuuri felt a thousand tumbling thoughts calm themselves. A smile eased onto his face.

_Maybe it was never about the medal in the first place._

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re right. I think we’re past due for some katsudon, then.”

Victor beamed.

-

Admittedly, the katsudon Victor had ordered was nowhere near as good as what you could get from Yu-topia. This was not the katsudon the gods ate, not the meal that Hiroko Katsuki prided herself on.

But as Yuuri looked across the table and saw Victor digging in, he couldn’t help but feel that this was the most delicious victory katsudon he’d ever eaten.

**Author's Note:**

> :')
> 
> Find me on tumblr at scarfyuuri!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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